


Cool Blue Butterfly

by HLMac (FantasticMrMac)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Baltimore, Cheating, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Drama, Fights, Gen, Gun Violence, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mystery, Oral Sex, Overdosing, Partying, Sexual Content, Suspense, Tragedy, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:41:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29044779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasticMrMac/pseuds/HLMac
Summary: Yoel has been on a path of self-destruction for years, but he doesn't know why. At the behest of his mother, he begins to attend therapy sessions that reveal dark secrets from his past. And sometimes, things are best left uncovered...





	1. Therapy, Session 1

**A/N: _Cool Blue Butterfly_ is a personal story, written out of both empathy and experience about a silent struggle that many of us have suffered through but have been unable to express. With that said, a few disclaimers. This will not be family-friendly. This is not to be read if you don’t like uncomfortable subject matter. So, I hope that you enjoy or engaged by what you read. Feel free to leave a comment with praise, questions, or constructive criticism.**

* * *

The room was a small corner office, illuminated by a small window that sat to the right of a small brown leather chair. It smelled of vanilla candles and incense, light in the air but still present enough to tip off Yoel Priest as he entered the room. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest, hoping that this wouldn’t be a trap. He was on edge when he sat down, his fingertips digging into the arm of the couch. Dr. Imara Franklin sat down across from him, a polite smile on her face as she settled into her seat.

“First, I just want to applaud you for taking the first step in coming here. Many times, we get stuck and don’t have the confidence to seek whatever help we need, so, thank you for stepping up. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll be taking notes during the course of our session for the future. Everything that is discussed stays within these walls between us and if there’s a topic you don’t necessarily want to talk about right now, we can table it. Sound good to you?” Dr. Franklin placed her large notebook on her lap, blue-capped pen in her left hand as she readied herself to write. She was well-dressed, classy but nothing too expensive. A blouse and a skirt with flat shoes, her hair wrapped in colorful silk. 

“That’s cool,” Yoel replied. Dr. Franklin nodded and wrote something quickly.

“So,” she said. “What do you like to do for fun?”

The question made Yoel pause and blink. He thought that therapy was a place where he’d be forced to reveal everything about himself, but didn’t think that his personal interests would be among the things that she wanted to discuss. Yoel felt his muscles loosen as he settled into his seat.

“Uh, I like writing. Making music. A lor basketball, but that’s it,” Yoel replied. Dr. Franklin’s pen moved swift and elegant across her page.

“Your music, are you a producer, singer, rapper…?”

“I guess I produce a bit. I play the drums and use that for my tracks I make. It’s mostly just amateur loops.”

“So, no rapping or singing at all?”

“Nah, just poetry that I write,” Yoel said. She wrote a few things again and then looked back up at him.

“And, what about work or school?”

“Yeah, I’ll be a senior at SVU once the semester starts again. I mostly make money from doing music and other lor hustles, foreal,” he said, hoping Dr. Franklin wouldn’t ask him anything further about his work. Dr. Franklin nodded.

“SVU, huh? Heard that’s a pretty good school. How do you like it?”

Yoel shrugged. “It’s a lot of white people, so your level of enjoyment depends on how much you want to be around them.” Dr. Franklin chuckled softly and continued to write. While she did, Yoel glanced towards the window, the grassy lawn outside thinly veiled by a white curtain. He felt his fingers dig into the arm of the chair and he forced himself to relax when Dr. Franklin looked back up at him.

“What about family?”

“Uh, it’s really just me and my mother. My father died in ‘98 when I was four. I’ve got a bunch of cousins on both sides, but except for a few, we’re not all that close,” Yoel said. He scarcely remembered the day that his father died, only able to recall spots of blood on his white tank top in the hospital room. but not the circumstances that led to that image in his head.

“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that,” Dr. Franklin said. “Were you and your father close?”

“From what I remember, yeah. We took a lot of pictures together and I always looked happy. My mother said we were basically inseparable. So, thinking about him is a lot.,” Yoel said.

“Do you sometimes think about the relationship with him that you missed out on?” Dr. Franklin asked. The question arrived like a sucker punch to the stomach and before Yoel could muster up an answer, Dr. Franklin raised her hand. “I didn’t mean to ambush you with that. if you’re not comfortable answering, just let me know.”

“Nah, it’s cool. I mean, I do miss him. I wish he was here when I needed answers. But, I don’t know. That’s all, I guess,” Yoel replied. Her pen moved again and Yoel waited for her to ask another question.

“What brings you here today?”

Yoel flicked his tongue around the inside of his mouth and scratched his ear before sighing. “A lot of shit has hap…” he paused. “I’m sorry, can I curse?” 

Dr. Franklin smiled. “Whatever you need to do, Yoel.”

“Thank you. A lot of shit has happened in my life foreal. I haven’t really, like, sat down to deal with it ‘cause my life is constantly moving,” he said.

“So, how would you describe your overall mood? With everything that’s gone on?” 

Yoel shook his head and shrugged quickly. “I don’t know. Angry, I guess. I’ve been angry a lot since I was a kid. Fighting and shit all the time,” he said. 

“Were you bullied?”

“Not really, at least not after the second time I fought somebody. I mean, I was a fatass, so yeah. And like, I had this one blue eye so niggas was always trying me bout that too,” Yoel said, trailing off. Dr. Franklin continued to write then shifted in her seat, looking up at the ceiling briefly.

“What do you think is the driving force behind your anger?” she asked. A few images flashed in Yoel’s mind. A house. A child’s room. Stuffed animals. Another boy.

Yoel shrugged, pushing those things to the back of his mind. “I don’t trust people. I’ve put my trust in people before and they abandoned or betrayed me.”

“Your anger is aimed towards those times where your trust was betrayed?” 

“Yeah,” Yoel said. Dr. Franklin interlocked her fingers.

“I think the first step in dealing with your anger is forgiving those who betrayed your trust and let you down. It is a hard thing, especially when betrayal is such a deep thing, but it is necessary for your personal development,” she said. Yoel sighed and nodded. He had heard all the talk of forgiveness before and while he had considered it an option, he hadn’t settled on it. How could he forgive someone that had done what _they_ did?

“I don’t know if I can,” Yoel whispered.

“You don’t know if you can or if you want to?” Dr. Franklin asked. 

“Both,” Yoel said. 

“Mmm.” She nodded, wrote down a few more notes, and looked up at him again. There was a moment of silence before she spoke again. “Do you feel anger towards yourself because of what happened?” When Yoel made a questioning face, Dr. Franklin continued. “Do you think you could’ve stopped any of it?”

“No,” Yoel answered quickly, almost angrily. He grit his teeth and put his head down. “No, I couldn’t have.”


	2. Escapism

It was humid, sticky, and muggy. The smell of rain hung heavy in the air and there was a faint sound of thunder. Yoel sat in his car, trying his best to regulate his breathing. The first therapy session had started off easy enough until she began to dig deeper into his life, asking why he was there. In all honesty, he didn’t know. It had been a “suggestion” by his ex after he had screamed at her out of anger. A few months later, he ended up taking her up on that piece of advice. But now, he questioned if he even wanted to go back. He knew why he wanted to be there and he knew that he needed help. But the broken pieces of his past that rose up when talking to Dr. Franklin made him feel vulnerable. He hated that feeling.

The stress of the past hour had his head pounding and as he left the lot, he could only think of two ways to relieve it. At the next red light, he checked the secret compartment in his car door, sifting through a stack of old receipts until he found two ziplock bags and counted two pre-rolled paper joints in each. He then pulled his phone from his pocket and scrolled through his contacts until he stopped on a name. **Sapphire _._**

 **Yoel:** Yo, what you doing tonight?

 **Sapphire:** Probably going to watch _Shark Tank_.

 **Sapphire:** Why 👀

 **Yoel:** First of all, who tf watching _Shark Tank_ on purpose? And I got some loud if you tryna partake.

 **Sapphire:** I do nigga.

 **Sapphire:** Say less tho. When?

 **Yoel:** Like 9. Whenever the Sun goes down.

Yoel smirked then locked his phone. The drive home was uneventful, aside from the late evening traffic clogging the streets as tired and angry people attempted to get home after a long work week. He watched as the neighborhood shifted from the heavily-wooded area around Dr. Franklin’s office to the unkempt and abandoned buildings closer to his home. After passing under the subway rail and over the train tracks, he found himself home.

Summer nights were primetime. Music blared from the carwash and old heads laughed and joked in front of Dolfield’s. Yoel parallel parked his car, exited then looked up at the sky and could see the grey clouds beginning to form. They seemed to be rushing toward him. He had to hurry.

He crossed the street to his home and when he entered, he could smell food. Chicken, greens, and potatoes from the scent of it. Yoel’s mother, Cynthia Priest, turned toward him as he entered the house.

“Hey, baby,” she said. Yoel hugged her and leaned against the wall. His mother looked over his face as if she was scanning it. “How’d your session go?”

Yoel shrugged. “It was okay. We just kind of talked about who I was as a person, foreal. Nothing too deep.”

His mother nodded and continued to cook. The absent nod was her indicator that she knew he wasn’t telling the complete truth but she wasn’t going to press him on it. Something had learned over time. “Are you eating dinner with me?” she asked.

“No, ma’am. I have a lor get-together to head out to,” he replied. His mother raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, really? What’s her name?”

Yoel laughed and waved his finger. “Nah, I can’t tell you that, ma. You know the rules.”

Cynthia rolled her eyes. “I’m just checking on you. You haven’t really gone out anywhere since…you know who.”

“Yeah, I know who,” Yoel said, frowning. “But, it’s nothing heavy. Just trying to get myself together.” His mother nodded and sighed.

“Well, be safe and keep your head up. The police have been out heavy ever since that boy got shot around the corner. I don’t want those idiots thinking you’re whatever skinny black man they’re looking for today.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Yoel nodded. “Can you leave a plate out for me for when I get home?”

Cynthia scoffed. “No,” she said, grinning. With a final hug, Yoel went up to his room, grabbed a few condoms, and sprayed some cologne on his neck and chest then headed back down the stairs.

“I love you, ma,” he said as he went out the door.

Yoel logged Sapphire’s address into his phone and started his car. He sifted through his phone for music and turned on _If You’re Reading This, It’s Too Late,_ Drake singing, “Oh my God, Oh my God, if I die, I’m a legend”. Yoel sang along, although for once, he couldn’t fully commit to going along with Drake’s music. He could die now and there’d be few people on the planet, let alone Baltimore, that would care that he was gone. That humbling thought almost made him sink into the recesses of his mind.

He stayed there so long that he barely remembered pulling up to Sapphire’s apartment, but when he did, he pulled out his phone and shot her a text, letting her know he was outside. Knowing her, he had about two minutes to get himself together before she came out. He spent that time pulling himself out of his head and readjusting the mask he normally wore.

Sapphire walked down the steps, her trademark blue-dyed hair up in a messy bun and an orange and white striped mini cami dress that hugged all of her curves tightly. Yoel watched her all the way to the passenger side of his car. When she entered, he looked at her for a millisecond.

 _You look good as shit,_ he thought, but the words never exited his mouth. “Wassup wit’ you?” he said instead.

Sapphire sighed. “Nothing. Where we going?”

Yoel shrugged. “We can hit the woods or go by the lor train yard in the cut. You usually pick,” he replied.

“Woods. It’s kind of busy back by the train yard,” Sapphire replied.

“As long as we don’t get picked off by fucking klansmen, I trust you,” he said.

Sapphire giggled and sat back. Drake continued to play in the background as the two pulled out of the apartment lot and headed down the road, looping around past the more luxury apartments and stores into the more rural and distant area. The trees towered above them, tall enough to block the moon. The back road weaved around and large houses dotted a few of the cleared spaces. Yoel backed into the driveway of a dark house on-sale and turned his car off, leaving the key in the ignition just in case they needed to quickly pull off. He lowered his windows enough to let the warm breeze blow through the car and avoid the coming rain.

Yoel pulled out the first paper and sparked it. He took two deep puffs, let the smoke hit the back of his throat and lungs then passed to Sapphire. A smokescreen blew out in front of his face as he exhaled. When he spoke, he sounded congested. “Don’t get it wet.”

“You already did that,” Sapphire said in between puffs. She held the second longer than he had before taking a third and passing.

“My lips are too big,” Yoel said. His vision was getting slightly blurred. He could taste the mint and lavender from the herbal mixture.

Sapphire took her turn and stared at Yoel for a while. “No, they’re not,” she replied.

“Huh?”

“Your lips,” she said. Suddenly self-conscious, Yoel licked his lips then started laughing. Sapphire joined him and passed him the paper back. He took another hit and sat back in the seat.

“I’m high as fuck,” he said, dragging the last word out. Sapphire finished it off or at least that’s what Yoel thought when she put it back into the empty ziplock bag.

PartyNextDoor took his turn to croon over Yoel’s speakers. “Wednesday Night Interlude” played, the snaps and distorted snare and bass sounding like a beautifully crafted symphony.

_Been a minute since we've slept together  
Gotta get myself together  
I've been thinkin' about everything  
I don't know if it's because I'm lonely  
Lonely on a Wednesday night  
Girl, I'm lonely  
I'll admit it if you just keep quiet  
Girl, I'm lonely  
That shit ain't my fault girl 'cause I'm lonely_

Yoel looked at Sapphire and she looked back. He couldn’t tell if she could read his mind and thoughts, but his mouth decided to voice them for himself. “Do you want to—”

“Yeah,” she replied. Her hand slid towards his face, caressing it lightly. The first kiss was nothing more than an obligatory launching point. Her hands found their way to his belt buckle. He scooted his body up and helped her move his pants. Her head descended into his lap.

Yoel felt both numb and everything at the same time. He could hear his own breathing, her slight gasps for air, his heartbeat, and the pattering of rain against the roof of the car. As she slurped and licked up and down the length of him, his toes curled in his shoes. She paused for a moment to look up at him, smirk, then continued. Yoel grabbed his car seat, moaning softly. She started going faster, her blue-haired head bobbing up and down. He heard her gag, cough, then spit. The sound of him continuously hitting the back of her throat turned him on and the feeling even moreso. It was too much.

He let out one final exhale, loud and forceful as the pleasure, fizzling like a shaken soda, overtook him. His release was calm and when she paused, he knew everything was done.

Her head lifted from his lap, her lips glazed with saliva that she slowly licked off as she looked away from Yoel, giggling. Panting softly, he felt tightness in his lower abdomen that subsided as he regulated his breathing. He stared out of the front window and sighed in relief. 

“Shit,” Yoel said.

Smiling, the young woman in his passenger seat shrugged. “Are you ok?” she asked. When Yoel nodded, Sapph folded her arms and smiled deviously. “We’ve got 15 minutes before Chick-fil-a closes.”

Yoel laughed and started his car. “Munchies like a motherfucker, huh? Ard, Sapph, I got you.” Yoel pulled off from the driveway and picked up his phone, scrolling until he found the song he knew would make her happy. 

_Yeah, ho_

_We gotta come like we get down and dirty for our figures_

_We gotta come like we be quick to pull back on some triggers_

_We gotta come you know dat Devil shit is still up in us_

_We Mafia Niggas, We Mafia Niggas_

Sapphire danced in her seat, pointing her fingers at an invisible adversary as she rapped the song word-for-word. Yoel watched her, the high still floating around in his head as he watched her go from sexual to completely carefree in a matter of seconds. When they stopped at a red light, Sapphire turned to him.

“What?” she asked.

Yoel chuckled and shook his head. “Nothing, yo.” He didn’t feel that he could say what he wanted to say. How much he appreciated her for being as open as she was. That he needed her in these weak moments. But, he didn’t let himself admit that that was the case.

He ordered her two twelve-count nuggets and a large order of fries with a large lemonade. Sapphire ate while Yoel drive, more random songs playing as they made some small talk. The drive back to her complex took less time bringing her back than it had coming to get her. Yoel pulled into a space and parked his car.

“Thank you for the food,” Sapphire said. Yoel smirked.

“No problem.”

“Let me know when you get home. Be safe,” Sapphire said. They hugged, cramped and awkward in the front seat of the car, then Sapphire left. Yoel watched her as she ascended the steps and waited until she disappeared into the building before he pulled off. When he was out of her complex, the high of both sexual climax and marijuana had worn off. The only thing left in his head now were his thoughts and feelings, resurfacing like weeds growing in the midst of an otherwise healthy field.

**_“You ain’t shit.”_ **

**_“Why would you treat somebody that likes you like that?”_ **

**_“You don’t deserve any love, you ugly, dumb nigga.”_ **

**_“You can’t hide from this…”_ **

**_“That’s why_ _she_** **_left you for him.”_**

Yoel slunk into his house. His plate sat on the stove, covered in aluminum foil. He placed it in the refrigerator and headed to his room. When he stripped, he went to the basement bathroom and started the shower. As he waited for the steam to build up, he texted Sapphire and told her that he was home then he went to Instagram and scrolled.

His breath quivered at the first image he saw. It was **her.** His ex-girlfriend, her face completely made up and her mouth wide in a smile in a black dress that he had bought her. Next to her, was the man that she had left him for.

Older. Locked into his career. A homeowner. The things she said Yoel was missing. Everything he seemed to be missing.

 _“I’ve never met someone as wonderful as you, babe ❤️”_ her caption read.

Yoel wanted to throw his phone. He wanted to scream. Everything in him wanted to let the world know how hurt he was.

Instead, he got in the shower and let the sounds of the rushing water drown out his crying.


	3. "Saint" or "Sinner"

**Loneliness is an illusion. There’s always a voice in your head that tells you _why_ you’re lonely. Why you’re alone. **

**It’s _your_ fault. Remember that. It’s _your_ fault.**

Yoel didn’t leave his room the next day. His bed kept him glued to the sheets, holding him close like the lover he didn’t have. His phone vibrated multiple times with messages from Sapphire and his bank letting him know that he was broke, another reminder that he wasn’t living up to the expectations that he set for himself. The rain clouds had overtaken the Sun, painting the outside world a nasty grey. Without the sun shining through his blinds, his room was as dark at noon as it was at midnight. Whenever his mind would wander, it made him physically ill to the point that he was coughing and sneezing. Instinctually, he grabbed the bottle of NyQuil at his bedside and poured 30ml then took it to the head. Sleep swallowed him and he only got up three times after that; twice to pee and once to heat up the plate his mother made yesterday. After marinating for almost twenty-four hours, the chicken tasted spectacular while the potatoes were soft and flavorful. The greens also tasted like the bacon his mother had used to cook them and briefly, Yoel found solace in his food and a YouTube video.

When he had finished his meal and washed the dishes, Yoel slunk back to his room. His Playstation purred awake and Yoel left his present problems to live the life of a virtual NBA star. It was several hours — he only knew because when he unlocked his phone to check Twitter, his lock screen said “ _4:12 AM_ ” — before Yoel’s eyes and hands were tired enough for him to stop. He turned the game off and laid back in bed and sighed softly.

He stared at the cream ceiling, the texture riddled with small imperfections that looked like small creatures had left footprints there. He didn’t know how many times he watched the fan go around before his phone vibrated.

**Sapphire - 3 unread messages**

He opened them and read through them.

 **Sapphire:** Hey, I had fun last night. It felt good to be with you. Are you ok?

 **Sapphire:** Listen to “Heart Don’t Stand A Chance - Anderson .Paak”.

**Sapphire: 🙁**

Yoel yawned and began to type a message back.

 **Yoel:** Sorry I didn’t respond. Today was…hard.

A few moments passed.

 **Sapphire:** Hard how?

Yoel felt his chest get tight. He wanted to vent. He wanted to say how he felt about seeing his ex’s picture pop up again. He wanted to talk about how hurt he was on the inside and how much he needed to just cry in someone’s arms. But that was weakness. Being weak had left him in the position he was in now, crying over a woman that had no remorse or concern for how he felt.

 **Yoel:** It was pretty hard to get out of bed fr. I think my allergies were fucking me up. I took some medicine but it only helped me sleep. Now, I’m wide awake.

 **Yoel:** And, I have church in a few hours…

He had only just then realized that it was Sunday and that he had an entire day of church ahead of him. Something in him was further filled with dread that he tried his best to ignore.

 **Sapphire:** Sounds like you need to go to sleep very soon 😬 Pray for me when you get there.

 **Yoel:** I’ll see if God will listen to me. Good night shorty 💙

 **Sapphire:** Good night 💜

Yoel locked his phone and put it back on the charger. His mind continued to wander, dipping into spaces that he had otherwise repressed. He thought back to his freshman year in high school when he stood aside while his friend was robbed of his iPod Classic by two upperclassmen. The guilt and shame from the moment was fresh, unmoving, and still real. He thought about _her,_ allowing things that he shouldn’t have to persist in the name of love only to be left alone in the end. The image of her and her new relationship was plastered in his mind.

Frustrated, he turned over and unlocked his phone. Muscle memory guided him to PornHub in a few clicks and within five minutes, he released his anxiety and cleared his mind. He settled in the well-worn bumps in his mattress and curled up in his blanket before he closed his heavy eyes.

“Yoel.” His mother’s voice, sweet and gentle, called him out of his sleep. She rubbed his shoulder, waking him. “It’s eight o’clock. Get up and get ready for church,” she said.

Yoel nodded then stretched until he heard and felt his bones crack. “Yes, ma’am.” Yoel grabbed underwear and a t-shirt before he headed to the basement bathroom. He washed himself thoroughly and exited the shower to brush his teeth, oil his scalp, and condition his hair. After using a curl sponge to give it texture, he put on his boxers and t-shirt and headed back upstairs.

He checked the weather before deciding on which clothes he’d put on. With a high nearing 80 degrees, Yoel decided against wearing a full suit and instead opted to wear a slim fit white dress shirt with small blue and gold designs dotted around and skinny navy dress pants complete with brown shoes and a brown belt. Finally, he added a blue, white, and gold tie to finish.

He walked to the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror, admiring himself briefly. His mother walked by the door and then came back to stop just past the threshold. “You look handsome,” she said. “Let’s go before we’re late.” Yoel grabbed the backpack from his room and headed downstairs with his mother.

Prosperous Life Church was a medium-sized brick church, flanked by purple and gold banners on either side of the building and a gold welcome banner in the front. The banners had the name of the church as well as the image of Pastor James Greene and his wife, Lady Sabrina Greene. A blacktop parking lot that held up to thirty cars rested to the left of the building, which meant that most people ended up parking on the street. The inside of the church was a flourish of earth-toned colors, burgundy, cream, and olive green. The front of the church was a massive stage lined with chairs where the elders and ministers that assisted the pastor sat. Behind them, there was a choir stand. To the left was Yoel’s favorite place in church and his post. The musician pit was sunken, carved out section that housed a full-drum set, the organ, keyboard, and a number of amps that lead and bass guitar players could plug into.

The beauty of Prosperous Life was a stark contrast to the neighborhood surrounding it. Rowhomes were tightly compacted together, as a one-way street ascended out of the neighborhood as if it provided only the option to leave. It wasn’t uncommon to hear police sirens speed by the church throughout the day and Pastor Greene forbade women from leaving out alone after one of the church mothers was robbed at gunpoint going to her car. For all of the problems within the community, Prosperous Life still made it their mission to assist the community with outreach days, another time that Yoel found himself feeling more saint than sinner.

Before the official service began, a Sunday School lesson was taught. Yoel attempted to pay attention but once it became a shouting match on semantical differences, he stopped paying attention. After Sunday School was finished, the main worship service began with scripture being read and was followed by praise and worship, the first song being “I Feel Like” by Deitrick Haddon. After that concluded, one of the elders came forward and began giving announcements. Yoel was scrolling through his phone, checking Twitter. He snickered to himself as he found funny tweets. He only managed to hear the tail end of the announcement.

“…and we will be following our pastor to the Holy Tabernacle of Faith Church to celebrate their pastor’s 23rd anniversary. The service will be at five o’clock this evening so that’ll give you plenty of time to go eat dinner before we go,” he said with a laugh.

Yoel heard the name of the church and froze in place. He was bombarded by memories and his heart pounded in his chest.

He saw himself going to get _her_ and heading out to dinner. He saw himself as a little boy in their grand sanctuary and wishing he could play the drums there. He saw himself again as a little boy on the altar.

In the midst of this gradual panic attack, the choir prepared for a song and Yoel heard the slow click track begin with bells and strings. He recognized the song, “Psalm 117” by Earl Bynum, and started to play with the band. He lost himself in the song, filling on the drums when the proper time arose and rhythmically tapping the ride cymbal’s bell as he played. As the song reached its coda and the congregation was hot, Yoel heard the chords switch. He followed the organist’s cues, hitting the crash and snare with him.

Mother Salt, a short fireball for God, took off down one of the aisles, screaming and a faster track started with claps, tambourines, bongos, and a kick, initiating the praise break. Yoel double-time on his snare before the organist led them into a drive alongside the track. After ten minutes, the chords softened in an attempt to lull the people to calm as Pastor Greene approached the podium.

“Praise God,” he said in a calm tone as the people continued to extol and raise their hands. Yoel wiped sweat from his brow and took an icy sip of water from his bottle. Pastor Greene raised his hand and the sanctuary grew quiet. He began to talk and Yoel only halfway paid attention, instead opting to focus on breathing and calming himself. Pastor Greene continued talking before he finally opened his bible and adjusted his glasses.

“I’ll be reading from Matthew, chapter six verses fourteen and fifteen,” he said.

> **14** For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you:
> 
> **15** But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.
> 
> \- **Matthew 6:14-15, KJV**

“I think it’s important to realize that forgiveness isn’t for the other person. Forgiveness is for you. Jesus says in Matthew 6:14-15 that if you forgive others, God will forgive you but if you don’t, God won’t forgive you. You may say, ‘But Pastor, they hurt me’. And I understand that completely. I’ve been hurt many times. I’m hurting right now. But my hurt doesn’t compare to the pain I caused Jesus when I sinned. The Bible says that we crucify Him anew with our sins. So as painful as your hurt was, it wasn’t the pain of the crucifixion,” Pastor Greene said. Yoel listened and watched the congregation jotted down notes as if they had never anything resembling this before.

Yoel pondered on this fact. If God truly understood pain and suffering, why would He require we forgive others before we’re forgiven by Him? God was an omniscient, omnipotent deity. What amount of pain could He possibly suffer that could be comparable to being a human unable to affect change and stuck within the confines of your reality? It took him a while to sort through these thoughts and understanding of pain.

By the time he had, Pastor Greene was finishing his message and people in the congregation were standing. Yoel’s passion and drive had died and he simply went through the motions in following the band as they played an ending song. When the service had ended, Yoel felt exhausted. The three and a half hours of sleep he had gotten wasn’t helping him function and without breakfast to fuel him, he felt as if his body was shutting down.

As he was packing up his drum equipment, he was met at his set by three little boys. “Hi, Yoel!” one of the boys, Dwayne, said.

“What’s up with ya’ll?” Yoel replied.

“You played really good! You did this thing—” Tavon, another boy, taller and older, said as he tried to imitate a fill that Yoel had done earlier in the service.

Yoel shook his head, embarrassed by the praise. “Thanks,” he said.

“Are you going to the other church?” a third voice, Nasir, asked.

“Yeah, I am,” he said before whispering, “Even though, I really don’t want to.” The boys laughed as if they had just heard a big secret.

“Can I come with you?” Nasir asked. Yoel lifted his eyes and looked around for Nasir’s mother, but couldn’t see her anywhere in the crowd. He thought that he could perhaps ask her if it would be okay but decided against it. It’d just be another mouth to feed and one he’s sure the boy’s mother would happily push on him.

“Not this time,” Yoel replied. “But, just ask your mother if ya’ll are going to the other church. I’ll see you over there.” Nasir’s drooping cheeks didn’t budge.

“Ok,” he replied.

The three boys walked out into the crowd and after he received his check from the finance office, Yoel found his mother and walked outside to the car. When she sat in the passenger seat, she sighed a breath of relief. “Service was so good. Pastor _really_ preached. Did you hear him?” she said. Yoel nodded.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. Cynthia Priest looked at him and after a scan, seemed to relax.

“What are we eating?” she asked. Yoel shrugged.

“We have time before tonight if you want to cook,” he said. His mother scoffed.

“I don’t think so,” she said with a side-eye.

Yoel laughed. “We can go to Hip Hop or something. Royal Farms?” he suggested. His mother nodded at the sound of Royal Farms.

“I’m not sure if I’m feeling crack chicken right before church,” she giggled.

The hours between waiting for chicken in a Royal Farms line and having to leave the house again to head to the second service passed quickly and with every tick of the clock, Yoel’s anxiety and dread swelled into a conflated mess. The very thought of the possibility of seeing his ex again was causing Yoel to be frozen with fear. _Maybe she felt the same way and wouldn’t show up?_ he thought hopefully. He doubted that the same woman that would disrespect their relationship when they were together would have any issue disrespecting him when they saw each other again. In the back of Yoel’s mind, he reasoned that she was simply living her life and not thinking about him but he couldn’t accept that. She deserved to feel _something_ because she hurt him. That was the end of it.

He felt determined as he drove through the city towards the church. He could feel his heart harden and his anger grow as he remembered past transgressions that she inflicted on him. His anger reached a fever pitch as he ascended the stair towards the front door of the church. The greeters open the door and Yoel and his mother passed the pillars and entered the vestibule.

Yoel felt the mask of anger crumble from his face when he saw _her_. Dressed in a sparkly black dress with a small shining headpiece, she stood between Yoel and the entrance to the sanctuary. She was laughing. Her skin was glowing. She looked as good as she ever had and the disappointment Yoel felt that she didn’t look like she had spent a moment worrying about how he felt mixed with relief and resurgent attraction. After being stuck in place for what seemed like an eon, Yoel walked forward. His mother walked to his right side, placing herself between Yoel and _her._ As they passed, he saw _her_ lift her eyes and the two of them exchanged the briefest of glances. Yoel’s heart fluttered despite himself and the further he got from her, the less angry he felt.

Then he saw _her_ new boyfriend as he appeared from the back of the church and walked towards _her_. As Yoel turned and watched the two of them talking, he felt his anger fester and boil inside of him. His fist clenched instinctually and he felt himself walk over towards them, turn the nigga around, and push his fist through his fucking head and—

Yoel’s mother grabbed him and he looked down at her. He gulped when he saw how serious her face was. “Yoel, calm down,” she said. He let out a sharp breath and looked back at them. The way they looked, so secure and happy, it was unfair. This wasn’t justice. “Yoel,” his mother said again.

“Yes ma’am,” he said softly.

As they continued walking, they passed by the altar. Yoel could feel something else inside of him fighting to be heard and the tiny voice made him stop and stare at the altar space. He saw himself as a young boy again on the altar. He remembered walking down there alone and being a sea of people, crying out to God. The memory went to black but when Yoel tried to force it to restart, an image flashed that he didn’t expect. A hand.

With his breath caught in his throat, he could only think one thing.

**_Fuck._ **


	4. Escapism II

_The late evening air was thick with the stench of death. The sky was a nightmarishly beautiful mixture of purple, orange, and red with the moon a golden crescent in the sky. A creature screeched in the distance, it’s blood-curdling cry halted by the slash of a blade and the spilling of blood. Yoel hung to the tight, dark, and dirty corridors of Yharnam as he made his way through the depths of the city. He squeezed the hilt of his broadsword as he rounded a corner._

_A group of werewolves, only partially turned, cowered as he approached. Their white eyes glowed in the darkness and Yoel could hear them whimpering in fear. If he was a novice, he would’ve let them live. However, experience taught him that leaving any enemy alive would result in his own death. So, he he unsheathed his sword and pressed towards them._

_Provoked, the monsters lunged at him. Yoel sidestepped the first wolf, bifurcating it with a single swing of his sword. The next, he caught through the neck with his follow-up swing. The last werewolf he unloaded his hand cannon to stun it then leaped forward to drive his sword through its hard. Blood Echoes collected around him and he moved forward through the steam erupting from the streets._

_When Yoel left the confines of the corridors, he saw an open, eerie space with a large church at the bottom of a hill. Crosses dotted the path to the church, beastial bodies burning on them. The smell of burning flesh made Yoel pause and wretch for a moment before he decided to take a second and look around. Some of the beasts that burned weren’t beasts at all. They weren’t even half turned. Could the Church have possibly burned_ accused _and those found guilty? It was possible._

_His sword drawn, Yoel walked towards the entrance of the church. Stone pillars stood guard at the entrance and Yoel passed beneath the awning and into the sanctuary. At the altar, he could see a monster. It looked like a giant quadrupedal werewolf but as Yoel approached, he saw that his first presumption was wrong. The werewolf whirled around, its flayed flesh hanging from his body. It stalked toward him slowly, growling as its claws clicked against the floor._

_Yoel froze when the beast rushed him with a wide swing of its claws. He jumped backwards and the creature flew out of sight. There was a strong odor as the monster passed and Yoel briefly thought that it was the smell of its skin as it went past him. He followed closely behind the monster as it ran into the wall and slashed at its hindquarters._

_The beast bellowed and whirled around on him, claws first. The attack was too fast for him to dodge and it sent him flying across the floor. His sword screeched on the stone floor as he slowed himself to a halt. Gritting his teeth, he readied himself to attack as the monster circled him. It seemed to be bleeding for the attack he gave it earlier. Yoel took in a breath and launched an attack. He and the flayed monster met at the center of the sanctuary. He dodged underneath the claws, only to be blinded by its hanging skin slapping him in the face. The beast’s claws grazed his back enough to draw blood and hit one of the pillars in the sanctuary. His sword felt heavier in his hands now and his knees were buckling. He was sure he hadn’t taken enough damage to feel this weak. His clothing gave him some protection against beast claws._

_It took him too long to realize what was happening to his body. The acid sizzled in his wounds and he coughed up blood, staggering back._

Shit, poison? _he thought. The beast roared as it ran towards him, raising its clawed forearm._

**Y O U D I E D**

“Gotdammit,” Yoel shouted as he tossed his controller on the bed. Deep within the recesses of his soul, he hated _Bloodborne_. He hated how horrible it was to traverse the terrain while getting ambushed by a couple horrifyingly designed enemies only to then lose his life to an enemy that he hadn’t scoped out. However, at the same, he _loved_ every second of it. It was a challenge for him and it pushed him to keep going until he accomplished his goal and killed his enemies.

It was also a great outlet for his frustration.

Seeing _her_ again hurt more than he thought it would’ve. He expected to feel a potent mixture of emotions and he had. He had been both angry and happier than he had been, petrified and confident, dismayed and relieved. He couldn’t believe that _she_ was in front of him, that he had survived long enough in his own personal hell that he had been rewarded with _her_. It was surreal and dreamlike. Before it became a nightmare.

 _Her_ boyfriend seemed to be everything that Yoel wasn’t. He was short and stout whereas Yoel was tall and lean. He was in the midst of his career from what Yoel had ascertained from his obsessive rabbit hole plunge after _she_ had ended their relationship. He was also older than Yoel was which made him older than _her_ by extension. _She_ always did love old niggas.

Yoel didn’t know what his next move should be. The sharp pain in his chest when he thought of _her_ was too much for him to take without his mind sliding down a slope into darkness. He couldn’t escape into videogames without ultimately boring himself with the object pointlessness of dying over and over. He had to do something to relieve his mind of _her._

He sent a probing message to Sapphire and after waiting fifteen minutes, he saw that it hadn’t been read. He decided against double texting her. He didn’t want to display the desperation for company that the voices were beginning to tell him he didn’t deserve. They were creeping into his ear now, a low whisper that he was fighting off. If Sapphire was asleep, if his mother was asleep…where could he turn to?

**_Drink it._ **

**_The whole bottle._ **

**_It’s yours._ **

**_She’s happier without you._ **

**_The world is better without you._ **

**_Why would anyone care._ **

**_You don’t deserve company._ **

**_What you deserve is…_ **

**_to die…_ **

The voices were right.

Yoel grabbed the bottle of NyQuil he kept by his bed for whenever he got “sick”. He unscrewed the cap and stared down at the dark blue-green liquid. He let the scent of Vicks embrace his nose and draw him in. He felt confident in his decision and drank the entirety of the bottle down. It burned in his chest and throat, leaving him a coughing and quietly groaning mess. The effects of the medicine were nearly instant. His vision blurred and his muscles felt loose. It took all of his efforts to pull himself up underneath the comforter. The last thing he did was burp before his neck was weightless and his head cloudy enough that he fell asleep.

He

felt

himself

float

down

into

the

depths

of

his

own

mind,

surrounded

by

darkness

and

outstretched

hands

pulling

him

down

He

saw

an

image

from

every

horrifying

sad

and

humiliating

moment

he

had

ever

experienced

in

his

life.

It didn’t register to Yoel that he had attempted suicide until he woke up the next morning with his head cloudy and his body stiff. He had slept with his socks on and was half-covered by his comforter. He moved his head in slow motion and reached for his phone. After fidgeting with his numb hands, he picked up his phone and brought it close to him. When he unlocked it, he saw that no one had contacted him back. Sapphire hadn’t even returned his call with a text. So, perhaps the voices in his head spoke truth. Maybe nobody would care if he was gone. He had stepped to death’s door and not entered due to fear that he’d leave someone that cared for him behind. But in the end, it seemed as though he was wrong.

Nobody cared.


	5. Therapy, Session 2

Yoel’s head hung so low, he felt like a weight was tied to his neck, suffocating him. The smooth, calming scents of Dr. Franklin’s office mixed with the taste of NyQuil that hadn’t left Yoel’s mouth the entire week, lingering like the sting of his heartache. His therapist watched him as he settled into his seat and Yoel did his best to meet her gaze. He could tell that she saw that he was hurting and no matter how solid her professional wall was, she was visibly concerned.

Dr. Franklin’s notepad rested in her lap and she flipped a few pages to an empty one. “How do you feel today?” she asked.

 _Like a piece of shit. Like I should’ve died Sunday night rather than go through the rest of my week living as a broken shell of a fucking human being. Like I would trade the voices in my head for a bull—_ “I’m ok, I guess.” Yoel answered instead. Dr. Franklin blinked at him and let out a small sigh.

“In my experience, it’s easier to help people when they’re both honest with you and themselves. I want to help you along your path to breaking through and the first step is honesty,” she said. “Can you please be honest with me?”

It was true. Yoel was here to be helped. He was here because there wasn’t anywhere else he could turn to. He was here to find a way to silence the voices. “Yeah, I can try,” Yoel replied.

“If there is a question I ask that you’re not ready for, we can table it for a future session. But, the key is open, honest communication. Not just for this conversation, but your life as well, ok?” When Yoel nodded, Dr. Franklin continued. “In our last session, we talked about your interests, your family, and we began to cover the topic of betrayal and forgiveness. I believe the last question I asked was in reference to anger that you may have directed towards yourself because of incidents in your past.”

“Yeah,” Yoel replied. “If I thought I could’ve stopped what happened…”

Dr. Franklin nodded. “Right. I would like to apologize as we hadn’t actually had a chance to discuss any of your traumas or betrayals of trust yet. My question wasn’t meant to insinuate any sort of victim-blaming.”

“It’s cool,” Yoel replied. “I-I overreacted.”

“Within proper context, perhaps it wasn’t an overreaction,” Dr. Franklin replied, adjusting her glasses. “That’s where I want to pick up our conversation, though. The context.” She twisted her pen in her hand. “First, has there been anything positive that happened between last session and today?”

Yoel’s mind went back to being in his car with Sapphire, hotboxing as rain pattered against the hood of his car and Sapphire dipped her head into his lap. He shifted positions in the chair and almost smirked before remembering that Sapphire had essentially abandoned him when he needed to talk to _someone_. “Something like that,” Yoel replied.

Dr. Franklin looked genuinely intrigued. “You want to elaborate?”

 _Honesty._ Yoel thought before he shrugged nonchalantly. “I mean, it was a lor situation with a female friend…” he said. When Dr. Franklin’s eyes lit up with realization, Yoel didn’t know what he expected her to do. But laughter wasn’t one of the options he had in mind.

“Ok, I guess the first session had you a lil’ bit stressed out, huh?” she asked, a different twang in her voice that reminded him of his grandmother.

Yoel smirked. “It was intense foreal. I’m not gonna lie,” he said. Dr. Franklin nodded and wrote something in her notebook.

“Is she a key figure in your life? Girlfriend?” she asked.

“Nah,” Yoel replied.

“Ok, ok,” Dr. Franklin said as she wrote. “Did you have any negative experiences between this week and the last session?”

Yoel wanted to lie and avoid thinking about how horrifying his experience Sunday was between seeing his ex, being ignored in his time of need, and the suicide attempt. It was almost too much to think about. _You want help, right?_ Yoel asked himself. “Yeah. I saw my ex on Sunday at church.”

A quick swoosh of her pen. “This is your most recent breakup?’ she asked. Slowly, painfully, Yoel nodded. “Is that part of the reason why you’re here?” Dr. Franklin asked.

“Part of it, yeah,” Yoel said. “I just—” he started and Dr. Franklin looked up attentively.

“Please, whatever you need to get out, just let the words come,” she urged gently.

Yoel took in a deep breath and exhaled sharply. “I was sad—well, depressed—before we got together and broke up. It was one of the reasons we were so close. She’d always be there as a friend for me when I was at my lowest and checked up on me. She was my best friend and we ended up going further than that. But, shit was horrible. She was stuck on her old nigga before me and refused to let him go, texting him ‘I love you’ during my mother’s birthday dinner and shit like that. But, I stayed because I felt like I owed her foreal. For saving me from myself.”

Her pen glided across the pages as she took down notes and nodded to herself. “So, with all that was going on with your ex…” Dr. Franklin paused. “I’m sorry, can we name her? In case there are others you want to talk about?”

 _Her_ name…

For months, Yoel had refused to speak his ex’s name. He refused to visualize or conceptualize her as anything more than a raging demon that had plagued his life. In his anger, he had killed her in his mind and had carried on as if she was an accursed creature who should never be spoken of again lest her resurrect her and bring others like her back into his head or life. Dr. Franklin was asking him to see the humanity in the monster that had ruined his life as if there weren’t others that lived in the shadows of his mind.

“Iris…” Yoel breathed, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders but pressure tighten his chest. He licked his lips and tried to compose himself as Dr. Franklin wrote.

“Good. Iris,” she repeated, glancing up at Yoel before continuing. “Okay, so with all that was going on with Iris, was she the main contributor towards your depression or sadness during that time? Because, I’m hearing that there were other issues, possibly bigger issues, that were more than likely exacerbated by the relationship. Am I correct in that?”

“I mean, yeah, I think I’ve been feeling like this, depressed or whatever, since freshman year in high school. I don’t know what really happened to me besides just feeling like I ain’t fit in. I looked different. I just felt like I didn’t belong foreal,” Yoel said.

“And in your isolation, did you have moments where you sought people or things out for comfort?” Dr. Franklin asked. Yoel’s mind went to Sapphire again. Bonding over a mutual interest in music, talking to her everyday until he proposed moving their relationship beyond simply being friends. She had been the first person since _her_ —Iris— that he had wanted to be around. However, he’d never admit to her or himself how much it felt like he needed her.

“Yeah. The same girl I mentioned before,” Yoel said. “Sapphire.”

“Mhm,” Dr. Franklin said. She bit her lip, read over her notes briefly, then nodded to herself. “So after breaking up with Iris, you immediately went to Sapphire?”

Yoel shook his head. “No. I-I tried to get Iris back for a few weeks,” he said.

The expanded truth was that he had stalked Iris for two months after they broke up, tracking her posts on social media, hacking into her Facebook to confirm his suspicions and read the conversations between Iris and the new fuck she was with. It only made him more desperate and angry, so much so that he scoured the internet doing research on the nigga and found his address. He planned to pull up at his house and catch him slipping outside. He imagined beating his ass with the old wedge golf club he kept in the trunk of his car. But when the time came, Yoel had been too overcome with grief and sadness to do anything. The depression made him handwrite a letter to Iris, begging her to take him back and forgive him. He drove to her house and left the letter in the mailbox, hoping she’d read it and text him.

He didn’t know what the fuck kind of romantic dramedy he thought his life was, but he learned quickly that he wasn’t in one.

“And you don’t think this situation with Sapphire is serious?” Dr. Franklin asked. The way she asked it made Yoel feel like she was trying to imply something that he hadn’t realized or didn’t want to admit.

“Not to me…” Yoel said. It was partially true. He didn’t necessarily consider Sapphire a potential girlfriend for him, especially not so soon after Iris. Another time in his life, perhaps but not now.

“Did you try establishing a rebound type of relationship with anybody else before Sapphire?”

There had been several.

  * **Samantha** , a girl he had flirted with at his old university before transferring.

  * **Janae** , a girl from Colorado he didn’t know was from Colorado until she posted she was in Colorado.

  * **Kaya,** a bougie girl from DC that turned her nose up at the prospect of talking to a “dirty Baltimore nigga”. She got cussed out by one of Yoel’s cousins.




“Yeah,” Yoel replied simply. He paused and sighed. “I guess I just wanted to not feel alone anymore and to have somebody with me that could understand what I was going through.”

“And not necessarily sex?” Dr. Franklin asked.

Yoel gulped and then shrugged. “I mean, sex helps me not to feel the shit I’m going through foreal. So, if it was offered, I’d take it.”

“Hm.” Dr. Franklin sat back in her chair and crossed her hands in her lap. “I think that using sex to fill an emotional void is normal, but not necessarily healthy. Sex is a natural stress reliever but it is also something that has the potential to attach people.”

“Like, ‘soul ties’?” Yoel asked.

“Mmm, just not that terminology. There’s energy transfers, leaving part of you with the woman that draws you both to each other. There’s also just natural sexual chemistry with a person that just makes things work and if you’re being responsible and having positive _emotional_ sexual experiences, I don’t believe there’s anything wrong with it. From what you’ve described, it seems you’ve pursued sex to avoid feeling sadness or regret about the end of your relationship with Iris,” Dr. Franklin said. She readied her pen again. “It begs the question, how do you _feel_ after a sexual interaction with Sapphire?”

**_fear - that I’m losing myself_ **

**_shame - that I’ve sunk so low emotionally_ **

**_secrecy - we always do it at night hidden somewhere_ **

**_confusion - why do I feel so bad when it’s finished_ **

**_physical distress - my chest tightens and I can’t breathe_ **

**_jealousy - what if she’s doing this with somebody else_ **

**_anger - it’s fucking Iris’ fault. fuck that bitch._ **

“I don’t really feel that great. Not like how you’d expect to feel afterward.” _Especially not after getting head like Sapphire’s_ , Yoel thought with a shudder. He didn’t understand what that meant.

Dr. Franklin nodded. “So, I think that we should set up a goal for you these next few weeks between our sessions. I want you to abstain from sex.” Yoel’s eyes widened and Dr. Franklin laughed. “I know, it sounds horrible but there’s a purpose behind it that I’ll get into as we continue to talk and delve into you. Abstaining from sex doesn’t mean you can’t hang out with Sapphire or any other person you’re interested in, but I want your goal to be to enjoy non-sexual quality-time together. If you both can do it consistently during that timeframe, then we can mark it as a win. If you can’t after trying, that’s also fine. We can talk about that.”

Yoel watched her walk to her cabinet and pull out a small blue notebook with a butterfly imprinted on the front. He wrinkled his face at the butterfly as he opened the book.

“The butterfly is symbolic of many things as well as the color blue,” Dr. Franklin said. Yoel could feel her looking at his one blue eye before she continued, “The butterfly represents **_resurrection, life,_** even **_joy_**. It’s a transformative process that butterflies go through and though their beginning stage is rough, slow, and methodic with stagnation in the cocoon, it’s a beautiful one. I hope that eventually, you will grow and transform through these sessions. The color blue has a dichotomous symbolic meaning. While it can represent **_wisdom, bravery, dedication,_** and, **_serenity,_** but it also represents **_depression_** and **_introspection_**. I want you to use this book to be honest with yourself completely. Write all of your darkest secrets in the book if you need to and keep it. I also want you to chronicle any withdrawals you’re having in regards to sex.”

Yoel closed the book and stared at the cover. While the rest of the book was a dark, almost navy, blue, the butterfly imprint was a soft cool blue. A perfect representation of what Dr. Franklin was trying to accomplish and who Yoel thought he was.


	6. Upheaval/Realignment

“Where are we going?” 

Yoel tapped the steering wheel of his car, slightly annoyed. He looked over at Sapphire, her hair crown braided today, and forced a smile. “I’ll show you when we get there,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Okay, Simba,” Sapphire replied, shaking her head and smirking. Yoel didn’t share in her amusement. Under Dr. Franklin’s guidelines, Yoel was removing sex from his mind when it came to his relationship with Sapphire and instead tried to focus on conversations with her that didn’t lead to flirting. He changed up their normal moon high meeting time and opted to meet during the day instead, a new phase in their situation that fear and shame would’ve made impossible only days prior. He even thought of a surprise outing that they’d both enjoy.

However, she wouldn’t be stop asking questions and let things be. Yoel tried to rationalize that perhaps she was just excited at the prospect of their relationship going beyond what it had been before. He had to admit, he was also anxious to see what their dynamic was beyond sex and drugs. They discussed music often, arguing about whether Kanye had actually fallen off after _Yeezus_ and if _The Life of Pablo_ was the start of his resurgence or who was the better artist out of Pac and Big. Their foundational bond had always been music. Maybe that was solid enough to build on.

Hoping to curve his irritation, Yoel put _The Life of Pablo_ on shuffle. “Father, Stretch My Hands” came on first and Yoel could feel Sapphire looking at him, smiling. He inwardly let out a sigh of relief and smirked as Sapphire’s painfully bad singing filled his car as she tried to harmonize with Kanye’s autotune. Yoel tried to keep a straight face until Sapphire rapped the lyrics verbatim.

_Now if I fuck this model_

_And she just bleached her asshole_

_And I get bleach on my T-shirt_

_I'mma feel like an asshole_

“Ayo, what the fuck kinda shit is this nigga on, yo?” Yoel laughed loudly, thanking God they were at a red light as tears flooded his eyes. Sapphire laughed with him.

“This song sounds so good at first then he deadass just fucks it up. I can’t,” she said, throwing her hands up. 

“It’s like,” Yoel said between labored breaths. “His bipolar Gemini side couldn’t allow him to just let shit be great.” Sapphire threw her hands up and rubbed her head.

“He should’ve just stayed in his _Graduation_ bag, honestly. He hasn’t made anything as good as that—”

“ _My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy_? What are you talking about?” Yoel replied. Sapphire raised a hand.

“Wait, nigga,” she laughed. “Dark Fantasy is a great album. Probably Kanye’s masterpiece. But, _Graduation_ helped keep me alive and the different beat choices make that album so important to me.” Yoel nodded.

“I get it. _Take Care_ is my favorite Drake album but _Nothing Was The Same_ is his best, in my opinion,” he said.

“I agree,” Sapphire replied. “I think _Take Care_ really defined our generation. Like, we were just some hurt ass kids.”

“And horny as fuck. Remember ‘Practice’? Nigga had the nerve to turn “Back That Ass Up” into a slow grinding sex anthem,” Yoel said, laughing. He pulled into the parking lot to the shopping center and backed into the space. He could feel Sapphire staring at him.

“You should play it next time we smoke…” she said when Yoel turned back around to look at her. He felt his heart pound in his check and the blood rush below his waist as his mind recreated the smoke session in the driveway. Yoel let out a quick exhale to get the tension from his body and shook his head.

“Maybe, I will,” he said as he got out of the car. He adjusted his white tee and black skinny jeans and waited for Sapphire to round the car. Her oversized Biggie scallop shirt stopped right above her knees and Yoel knew from peeking that she didn’t have shorts on underneath. Sapphire looked around the shopping center and back at Yoel, squinting from the beam of the sun.

“Can I ask now?” she asked.

Yoel dramatically sighed. “Yes, yo,” he replied.

“Where’s this spot?” she asked.

“Just follow me,” Yoel said, taking Sapphire by the hand to lead her briefly before letting go. She trailed behind him and Yoel looked back, almost laughing as the shorter woman struggled to keep up with him. He slowed his pace and let her walk next to him. Stepped up onto the sidewalk and approached the store.

“Barnes & Noble?” Sapphire asked.

“Yeah,” Yoel replied. “ _This_ Barnes & Noble is my favorite spot, especially in the county.”

When they entered the store, the wide open display welcomed them. To the right, there were magazines from pop culture publishers that Yoel never walked towards, followed by almanacs and natural history books. After that, it transitioned into young adult fantasy and science fiction books then older age books of the same genre and comic books and Japanese manga. To the left, there were journals and books on animals then mystery, drama, and creative non-fiction genre books with children’s book in the very back of the store. However, to the far left on the wall was Yoel’s favorite section of the store. The movie and music section.

“They have _vinyls?!_ ” Sapphire exclaimed quietly, picking up _Mama’s Gun_ by Erykah Badu. Yoel sifted through the row of vinyls, grabbing _All Eyez on Me_ and showing it to Sapphire. She rolled her eyes. “We’re always going to disagree on that man,” she said.

“Because you can’t admit that Pac was a better storyteller and was a better champion for Black people than Biggie ever was,” Yoel said.

“Biggie was a better rapper, though. You can’t tell me he didn’t have more complex rhymes than Pac.”

“But, Pac was a better _artist._ Biggie’s only artistic charm was welcoming death with his album titles,” Yoel said.

Sapphire sucked her teeth. “Fuck outta here, son,” she said, her New York accent slipping out.

Yoel laughed. “Oh shit, lor Bushwick shorty mad,” he said, lightly brushing up against her.

“Suck my dick,” she whispered, staring up at him.

“Nah, you do that too well for me, ma,” Yoel replied. They stared at each other and for a brief moment, Yoel heard nothing at all and saw nothing but Sapphire. Again, his mind replayed sitting in the driveway, a cloud of smoke around, and the orgasm that he had. He wanted nothing more than to feel that sensation again. But, he had promised Dr. Franklin that he wouldn’t have sex at all.

**_The circumstances are different._ **

**_You’re not sad._ **

**_You a grown ass man and you wanna fuck._ **

**_Ask her._ **

Yoel sighed inwardly to try to silence the voices and licked his lips as he looked at Sapphire. “Sapph…”

“Yes,” she answered.

 _Fuck._ “Let’s go then,” Yoel replied.

He didn’t think about anything except what his body desired. He knew his mother was still at work so his house was free for the next five hours. It was more than enough time. He parallel parked his car and walked with Sapphire up to his front door. They headed up to his room and when he closed the door, he turned and just stared at Sapphire. This was his last chance to stop, to do what his therapist asked him to do. It was simple, right? Just tell her that he wanted to reconsider…

But he couldn’t. He sat her down on the edge of the bed and she pulled his pants down. As she took him in, his mind went elsewhere. Not ascending to euphoria as he hoped, but digging down into the deeper recesses of his mind.

**_You’re weak._ **

She spat and stroked with her hand, looking up at him.

**_You can’t stop yourself._ **

He held the back of her head and pulled her closer until he heard her gag.

**_You’re disgusting._ **

Saliva dripped down to the carpet.

**_Finish it, you dirty ass nigga._ **

When he climaxed, Sapphire stayed where she was and pulled back, coughing and wiping her mouth. “Damn, nigga. That was a lot,” she said, laughing.

“Yeah…” Yoel said distantly.

“Wow.” He looked down and saw Sapphire staring up at him. There was a weird expression on her face that Yoel hadn’t ever seen before. One of bewildering disappointment and sadness.

“You good?” he asked.

“No, I’m not,” Sapphire said. She looked down and sighed. “Every time we do something like this, the way you act afterwards…I just…” She was struggling to string the words together. She was nervous, no, it was worse than that. She seemed _afraid_ to say what she wanted to say. Yoel was frozen and didn’t know what to do or say. So, he just waited for her to find the courage. “I feel fucking used. I thought that maybe, you liked me or something and we were going on a date instead of just waiting around for nobody to be home. I’m worth more than just a fucking nut, Yoel,” she said.

Yoel frowned. “You said ‘yes’ to coming here. You didn’t say anything besides that. I thought it was what you wanted to do. I didn’t mean to force you…”

“That’s not what I mean, nigga!” she said angrily. Sapphire shook her head. “Fuck it, just take me home, son.” Yoel bit the inside of his mouth and nodded.

“Ard, yo.”

The drive home was a silent one. Yoel didn’t want to take a chance and play any music with the tension as thick as it was between them. Instead, at the red light, he looked through his Instagram and scrolled until the light changed. While scrolling, he paused on a picture. He knew her.

The handle was @onlycache, the boomerang video posted the night before. Caché was syrup-brown with a slim figure and thick black curls that fit well in the canary yellow crop top and high-waisted loose pants she wore. No filters were applied and the video played back and forth. Yoel stared at it until he heard the car behind beep its horn for him to drive. Obliging, Yoel peeked back down at his phone, ignoring the odd looks from Sapphire and remembering the first time he met and saw Caché.

They were both in the SVU cafeteria line waiting for their turn and Yoel couldn’t keep eyes off of her. In the rising heat of the spring semester, the woman on campus opted for showing more skin than they normally would. It was a treat for Yoel who treated it like the ultimate window shopping exercise. Except for this time. Caché was wearing an olive green sweatsuit that served to accentuate her figure and Yoel had a hard time focusing on getting his order of chicken tenders and fries.

The first time he spoke to her was significantly less romantic. He had just left one of his English classes and when he rounded the corner, there she was. Looking absently at her phone as he left the room. Awestruck, Yoel awkwardly uttered the first thing that came to his mind.

“Why are you creeping by the door?” he asked. Caché looked at him and the bewilderment on her face only made Yoel feel worse.

“What? I’m waiting for class,” she said, her voice calm and almost amused.

Deciding to abandon his awkward first words, Yoel said, “Oh…I…shit, I fucked up, huh?”

She shrugged. “Maybe, but at least you recognized it,” she said, the slightest hint of laughter before she walked past him and went into the classroom. After that, the two talked every time they saw each other before class and eventually, exchanged their social media handles. Now, here Yoel was, missing traffic cues because he literally couldn’t take his eyes off of her video.

He pulled into Sapphire’s complex and watched her as she unbuckled her seatbelt. He inhaled deeply. “Sapph…”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, before getting out and closing the door. While she walked up to her building, Yoel’s eyes went back to Caché’s picture. He licked his lips. His fingers hovered over his phone’s keyboard as he tried to think of something to say that would get her attention in her DMs. He had nothing clever to say so he shrugged and just typed.

 **@yothepriest:** Ok, I see you, Ms. Natural 👀😍

 **@onlycache:** 😂 thanks, Yoel.

 **@yothepriest:** Looks like you had an eventful night fr.

 **@onlycache:** eh, not really. was just my mother’s birthday party.

 **@yothepriest:** you look like you prolly upstaged the birthday girl 😂

 **@onlycache:** lol nope. mom is fly af all the time. i wish i could keep up.

Yoel let the conversation sit for a while before he tried to throw a line out. He scrolled through AMC’s catalogue of current movies and the most interesting movies were the failing _X-Men: Apocalypse_ and some shit called _RockDog_.

 **@yothepriest:** So, if last night wasn’t eventful, do you want to try and make tonight fun? Maybe see a movie with me?

 **@onlycache: 🤔** what movies are out?

 **@yothepriest:** If you haven’t seen it, that X-Men is out. And RockDog 😂

 **@onlycache:** lol yeah, no. i’ll go see X-Men with you. What time?

 **@yothepriest:** I’ll pull up around 7.

 **@onlycache:** bet, see you ☺️

Yoel stared down at his phone and smirked. If Sapphire was angry and didn’t want to tell him why she was, fuck it. She’d eventually get over it and be back trying to talk to him soon. He needed to distance himself from her anyway. The guilt he felt from breaking his commitment to Dr. Franklin and the sex made him sick to his stomach. A distraction from the voices was needed and Yoel didn’t know if he could survive the night alone after what transpired.

A nap, shower, and thirty minutes of picking out clothes later, Yoel was on his way downtown. With the longer days of summer came sunshine even when night was encroaching. Yoel decided to take the scenic route and drive through the city. Kids were outside playing with a football, riding bikes, and sitting on the stoops. At one light, squeegee boys worked at the intersection.

Yoel rolled down his window as one of the boys came up to his car. “Yeah, yo, I don’t need nothing, but here,” he said, handing the boy a ten-dollar bill. The boy’s face lit up and Yoel carried on through the light. Even without the hustle and bustle of weekday evening traffic, downtown Baltimore was alive. Homeless panhandlers were stationed at every light and Yoel couldn’t help but chuckle as one black homeless man flagged down cars and told them not to give anything to his white counterpart across the street. Beef was beef, even if you didn’t have a set, crew, or hood to rep.

As he drove, he began to recognize the area quickly. Memories flooded back into his head as if he had dammed them behind a leaking wall. He saw himself last summer, pulling up to her house with flowers and welcoming her as she came out. He remembered being so full of life and love, ignoring how horrible she treated him. He had tried to prove to her how worthy he was of her love. In the end, that failed. His car passed by Iris’ house and he saw her car parked outside. He could hear the voices creeping into his ear, telling him to spin around to her house and bang on her door until she came outside.

But he ignored the urge and continued driving the next two blocks until he turned on Caché’s street.

Caché’s house was one of many beautiful brownstones tucked away in the otherwise desolate surroundings of the city. An enormous brick church that reminded Yoel of an ancient Mediterranean temple with its white pillars sat at the next corner. He wasn’t unable to find an open spot so he parked next to another car, leaving enough space to open the door, put his hazards on, and sent Caché a text.

Unlike Sapphire’s normal two-minute wait period, Caché was outside almost immediately. Yoel got out of his car as she came down the steps, dressed in a black sleeveless crop top, blue jean shorts that hugged her body tightly and stopped far above her knee with black suede Pumas and a couple of gold chain necklaces. Her full, thriving natural hair bounced as she walked and Yoel was starstruck by her.

She smiled as she approached, revealing a small gap between her two front teeth that seemed to add to her allure.

“What’s up?” Yoel said, coolly, adopting a deeper tone to his voice.

“Hey, long time no see,” Caché replied. They hugged and Yoel opened her door and let her in his car.

 _You got this,_ Yoel thought as he got into his car and started to drive. “What you in the mood to listen to?” he asked as he logged the directions to the movie theater. Caché shrugged.

“Something chill. It’s been a little bit since we talked too. I want to catch up,” she said. Yoel nodded and scrolled quickly then picked a song. The Isley Brothers song, “Summer Breeze” began to play and Yoel caught Caché smiling at him. “I _love_ the Isleys.”

“Oh, foreal? My mother put me on to it. Niggas in the seventies used to really be singing their asses off,” Yoel said.

“I know, like, they actually had a reason to sing and could sing. Without autotune,” she replied. Yoel nodded.

“Autotune has saved a lot of careers.” He paused and glanced over at her, letting a burning question slip past his lips. “Are you into this comic book movie shit?”

Caché shrugged. “I mean, I like the X-Men. Storm is my favorite character, but the movies…not really. You?”

“Yeah,” Yoel replied. “I’m a pretty big nerd and have been since I was a lor boy.”

“That’s cool. We all have our things that make us different and quirky,” Caché said before shrugging. “I like anime.”

“You bluffing like shit,” Yoel replied.

“My brother would force me to watch it with when we were kids. Always had Dragon Ball Z on and I guess, I got attached to it and started watching other stuff on my own. It’s not anime, but I love The Last Airbender show and I _love_ Naruto,” Caché said.

Yoel shook his head. “You really my son,” he said laughing. Caché laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Boy, nobody trying to copy off of you,” she replied. “But, I like what I like.” When she said that, she looked at him and Yoel felt his heart pound.

They arrived at the movie theater about thirty minutes before the movie started. As was customary on a Saturday night, the movie theater was packed with groups of young people, probably teenagers, eager to see movies. Yoel and Caché stood in line waiting for their turn. Caché leaned back into Yoel’s chest and he could smell the rose from her hair. When it was their turn, he got them two orders of popcorn, drinks, and candy for Caché.

As they walked towards the entrance to the auditorium, Yoel’s phone vibrated violently in his pocket. With his free hand, he picked up his phone and looked at the screen.

**Incoming Call**

**Sapphire 💙👅**

Yoel stared at it briefly, exhaled sharply, declined the call, then headed into the auditorium with Caché.


End file.
